Her brother stepped close to her, placed his hands onto her shoulders. He had always been boyishly handsome with his mischievoussmirk and laughing eyes, the same color as their mother’s. A stranger looked back at her now.
“When was the last time you slept?” Ravenna asked. “When was the last time you ate?”
He shook her. “You’re not listening to me.”
“Imelda has left Florence and Pietro is dead.”
His hands slipped off her shoulders, his jaw sagging. His words were a hoarse whisper, the rustle of leaves over a tombstone. “What have you done?”
“Antonio, listen to me.” She placed her hand on his arm, stopping him from crying out. “I have money. We can leave right now.”
“Madonna santa.” He appeared stricken, his face draining of color. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re leaving Florence,” Ravenna said. “Now, immediately.” She gestured to the room. “Pack up your things and come with me.”
His face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide, brows reaching his hairline. He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe they shared blood. “Have you gone mad? I can’t leave. His Holiness is depending on me. He needs me to cleanse the city and rid it of the Medici filth.”
“He’s using you!” Ravenna cried. “Can’t you see what he’s done? You’re not sleeping, not eating—”
“A small price to pay for the chance to bring down the Medici,” Antonio said, eyes feverishly bright. “The pope has given me holy orders, I must not fail him. He understands my pain, our pain. How could you forget what they’ve done tome?”
Desperation clawed at her. How was she ever going to get through to him? She felt as if they were speaking different languages. She was arguing with someone who had forgotten where they had come from. Their family. Their life. He had gone down a road she wouldn’t follow, one that took him away from himself.
She wanted her brother back.
“Fratello, look at me.” Ravenna grasped his hands. “I love you. This isn’t you—”
His voice dropped low, lower than a whisper. “Even if we wereto run, His Holiness would find us. He’ll excommunicate our entire family. Ican’tgo.”
Her desperation turned feral, a hungry animal that fed off her worst fears. Everything he said was true. But he was looking at her now with sudden clarity, without the haze of anger.
“Ravenna,” he said in that same low voice. “This is what I’m meant to do. It’s the only way.” He swallowed hard. “If you won’t help me, then for your own good, I need you to leave.”
“I won’t leave without you!” Ravenna shouted.
“That’s enough,” barked a voice from the door.
Ravenna turned to find two priests coming inside, their hoods flung back. One was bald, and the other was a head taller than all of them, long and skinny with pronounced cheekbones. The shorter one marched over to her and snatched her wrist.
“Let go of me—” Ravenna gasped.
He yanked her to a cot. “Get the rope.”
Antonio backed into the wall, his lips trembling. “She didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, she did,” the tall priest snapped, rummaging through the wooden chest. “If she isn’t for us, then she’s against us. Your sister is a liability.” He pulled out a bundle of rope and tossed it at the bald-headed priest.
Ravenna wrenched her arm free, turned to her brother. “Come with me, ple—”
The priest struck her cheek. Her head whipped to the side, and she dropped onto the cot. Thunder roared in her ears. She heard her brother cry out, but it didn’t matter. The bald-headed priest was tying her hands to the post. Ravenna kicked out her leg; her foot connected with his shin. He cried out and smacked her across the face again.
Ravenna’s vision blurred as she slumped to the side, her hands propped over her head, snug against the post. Her eyes fluttered closed; she was oddly lightheaded.
“There’s blood on her gown,” one of them remarked. “Where did she come from?”
“How did she find us?” asked the other.
“I told her how to contact me,” Antonio said quickly. “I never dreamed that she would come herself.”
